Bakugan Oneshots
by AquosKitty
Summary: A collection of one-shots, varying genres. Rated T for some themes. Review/Critique appreciated and requested! Taking requests for one-shots. Will not be updated for a while.
1. Romance: Cold Summer Rain

(AN: Like I said, I promised Romance, here it is! It's summer over here in cracker-ass Australia so the story has a summer theme. Couple is AliceXLync. Please excuse any nonsensical things; like I said, I'm Australian, not Russian, and I wrote this at 10:30 at night.)

The bright, warming rays of the sun were quickly and vividly becoming obscured by a large cloud of grey, threatening to let go of its wrath of rain, thunder and lightning and destroy a beautiful day. The world became dark, the ferocious storm wrapping its icy fingers around the world and refusing to let it go. Soon droplets make inprints in the sand, slowly becoming larger and larger as the world was enveloped in a blanket of cold wet anger.

Looking up from her book after half an hour of reading, Alice finally noticed the change in atmosphere; from a warm, sunny beach with laughter at every turn to a dark, cold one with groans of anguish and irritation. Putting her book down, Alice stood up, readjusted her shirt-and-shorts combo and walked to the shoreline as rain started to soak her red hair, trying to find the reason she was here in the first place.

He shouldn't have been so hard to find. She knew what he looked like off by heart, his appearance creating a certain joint to her memory that would stay for a long while. But among the massive crowd that was now heading in, she couldn't see him. A young child ran past her, knocking her off-balance and sending her pale body into the sand. No-one noticed the redhead on the ground as they all charged past, some indelicately stepping on her legs and arms, one rather large man stepping on her hip.

No-one except one.

"Hey Alice, you OK?"

Alice looked up as the crowd finished roaring past and saw a young boy staring at her; the one she'd been trying to find. She couldn't tell if rain or ocean water had soaked him through, and she didn't seem to care. He held his hand out and Alice took it, standing up. He was a little shorter than Alice, and a lot more childish. Despite this, he was out to impress her.

"Thank you." Alice said, grinning as rainwater drenched the once bone-dry girl. The boy pouted and Alice laughed, running her hand though his uneven pink hair.

"I swam out pretty deep, Alice. I nearly had my foot bitten off!" Lync said, and Alice laughed.

"I warned you to stay close!" Alice replied. Taking the late warning, Lync placed his head on Alice's shoulder. Alice smiled and ran her hand through his hair again.

"Anyway, let's go home."

The walk home wasn't any less drenching; the rain kept at its anger, not stopping as it destroyed the happiness of the day. While Alice's umbrella protected the two from the water, it seldom did the same for the cold. Wearing only a soaked tank top and pair of board shorts, Lync was freezing. He tried to hide his discomfort from the red-haired beauty next to him, but it was fairly obvious. Sighing with a smile, Alice stopped, untucked her dry towel from under her arm, and wrapped it around his shoulders. Knowing his awful cover had been blown, he decided to just rug up in the towel, keeping it close as if the flannel-like material could warm him up. It did, a little. He walked close to Alice…she was warm too. He placed one of his hands on the umbrella, and took half of its weight, allowing her to rest her left hand.

Finally, the two arrived home after over half an hour of walking. Still shivering, Lync collapsed to the floor, only to find it colder than even the howling rain outside. A sneeze escaped his nose and Alice ran back to his side, standing him up and taking him into the lounge room. Making sure he was comfortable on the sofa, she quickly left to get a blanket for the poor boy to use to stay warm. Living in a cold country had its advantages; she was never short of blankets. Still, her best bet was to run up to her room and use the one lying on her bed. Running back down the stairs, she felt her foot slide to the right four steps from the bottom and fell the rest of the way, the blanket breaking most of the fall. The only indication she had fallen was the loud bang she made when she hit the ground and that there was a small cut on her cheek.

Ignoring the cut and pain for the moment, Alice threw the blanket onto Lync, who quickly wrapped up in it to try and warm up. As soon as his instincts fell back to allow his own actions, he noticed a thin red line on her face.

"Had an accident with a pen?" He inquired, pointing to her cheek. Instinctively, she brought her hand to the cut and winced in pain. It wasn't a big cut, but her hands were fairly salty. She picked up one of the tissues, pressed it onto her face and climbed onto the other end of the sofa, making sure she didn't accidentally sit on his feet.

Again, to Lync, Alice felt very warm. He was a little concerned about invading her space, but if she'd allowed him to be close before, she'd surely do so again…right? He gingerly crawled up next to her, and she showed no signs of being invaded. Cautiously he touched her shoulder and found she was indeed very warm… she responded by placing her hand over his and smiling at him. He smiled back, closing his eyes, before he felt something warm and small hit his own cheek. When he opened his eyes again, there was a dark red mark over his nose, causing his cheeks to go bloodshot. He looked at her, only to find she'd returned his own smile. Hoping it was OK to do so, he did the same to her and got the same reaction. The two stared at each other with the only noise being the falling rain outside.

While he was still a little nervous about it, finally, Lync made his move. Quickly to avoid his own hesitation, he kissed Alice full on the lips. Alice responded, to his surprise, by kissing him back. While it was uneventful and probably only lasted for seconds, to them, it felt like one of the best things that had ever happened to them, and had lasted for hours.

"I'm still cold, Alice." Lync complained, staring out the window at the falling rain.

"I know…but you can stay here if you like." Alice smiled at him and opened her mouth to tell a secret.

"I'm cold too. But we can be warm together."


	2. Horror: Doll

(AN: I haven't any ideas for Earthly Connections as of the last 6 months. I'm sorry to say that it may be finished there. While I try to think up of a new Bakugan full-length story, I'm going to hand over a collection of drabbles too short to be their own story. Warning: First contains gore.)

A music box plays a calm, beautiful tune that bounces off the walls of the room. The room is made from steel, ice cold to the naked touch, barely cushioned by any fabric no matter how warm. A young girl lies on a freezing metal table, held down by multiple clasps of metal containing her wrists, her ankles, her neck and her waist. Somehow, she remains undeterred by her surroundings as she breathes slowly in and out, her eyes locked tight and her mind in the realm of dreams. She couldn't be older than 16.

The doors nearby slide open, still not stirring her from sleep, even as another young woman walks in. She may be young, but she is older than the sleeping girl on the table. A scalpel is concealed in the woman's hand, hidden up the sleeve of her glove-like shirt and still in its sheath. She smiles at the girl's helpless state. Not even her brother can save her now. Still, she wants her to be…awake for what was to come. She closes the door behind her and sneaks up to the girl's neck as it locks itself in place. No-one would get in without authorization. Leaning over, she whispers into the girl's ear.

"Wakey wakey, Mira."

Mira awakes with a start and is immediately snapped back by her neck restraint. At first, she is confused, but once the cool metal makes itself known to her waking state, she struggles again, trying to scream out for help. Again, the woman leans over, now able to stare into Mira's eyes with her own.

"Don't you know, struggling only makes it worse?" She giggles, but it isn't a 'ha ha, good joke' giggle. It's full of a sadistic glee which intensifies even more when the redhead tries to fight back.

"Let me go, Mylene!" Mira yells with defiance, and finally Mylene gives into a fit of laughter.

"Let you go? No way." Mylene finally unsheathes the scalpel and waves it in front of Mira's face, across her eyes, keeping only her finger and thumb on the end to stop it from slipping and impaling her somewhere. Mira flinches and Mylene grins, finally pulling the scalpel back.

"Now, Mira, be quiet so I don't have to cover your mouth and waste time." Mylene says, before sliding the thin blade across Mira's cheek, directly from the corners of her mouth, producing a forced grin with the red crimson that soon leaks, soon falling back and staining her red hair. Mira resists the urge to scream with ease and even smiles at Mylene defiantly, as if expecting her to back off. Mylene's smile fades as she places the scalpel down and picks up a melon scoop from the desk.

"Hold still, this will sting a little."

Pop.

Out comes one of Mira's blue eyes, the left one, leaving nothing but a black socket like looking into the depths of darkness. Mylene sticks the eye in a jar and grins as she watches Mira supress a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to scream. Mira turns her head away from Mylene, refusing to show her weakness. Blood begins to pool out of her socket, leaking painfully across her other eye and onto the table. She then feels the metal ring around her waist receding and her shirt being pulled up, exposing her stomach and part of her chest to her captor.

"Don't worry about that now, we're both girls anyway." Mylene slides the scalpel over Mira's chest and she can no longer resist the urge to scream out; she releases one that nearly has Mylene stab herself in the head accidentally.

Almost.

"I thought you'd do that soon…" She walks over and picks up a bottle, pouring it into Mira's mouth and forcing her to swallow. It immediately burns at her vocal chords, rendering her unable to make a single sound. Mylene tugs at the folds of the new incision, deciding what is expendable and what she should keep until it's time to finally end Mira. Her hands dig into her body and find the girl's appendix. She pulls it out painfully and holds it high above her head, but Mira can only open her mouth and try to screech. Grinning darkly, with blood speckles on her face, she drops the organ into an unmarked container. Slowly, she pulls at the girl's intestines, emptying them into another unmarked container. Blood begins to splatter across the table, across Mylene and across Mira, and soon she is missing half the organs required to keep her alive.

That's when Mylene finally decides to take out Mira's other eye. The last thing she sees is Mylene grinning, blood dripping from her fringe into her mouth, pressing the melon scoop against her one remaining eye. She trying to struggle desperately, but it is proving futile and a task that saps away at her fast-diminishing life energy. Where would she run if she did escape? Could she run?

"Let's finish this." Mira hears Mylene say and feels something warm close over her heart. With dread in that organ, she knows what's coming next. She feels it painfully come out of her chest and her life energy diminishes even faster. With nowhere for blood to come and go, slowly, her mind and body give up and she slips into an eternal slumber.

Mira lies in a glass coffin, her eyes returned and staring blankly above at the glass. She wears a beautiful silk black dress that covers her neck, a silver necklace with a topaz gem adorning it. The dress covers her arms and fits snugly until it reaches her waist; then it spreads out with many different patterns, sequins and ribbons scattering along the long skirt. Her hands are placed over her chest, where a heart no longer resides. She appears alive and lifeless at the same time. A hand smears a bit of blood across the glass. Mylene grins at her work.

"Goodnight."

(AN: I assure you the next one won't be anywhere near as gory and has a 50/50 chance of being romance. This was just to see what would happen if Mylene's sadistic personality took on a whole different level of the subject. So anyway, I promise I'll resist the urge to write gory sh*t next time and maybe do romance!)


	3. Friendship: Midnight Train

(AN: Reviews are requested for the story! I would like to improve my writing as much as I'd like to improve my drawing. You can put requests for one-shots there too if there's a certain one you'd like (I can only do first two seasons of Bakugan, though, reason I abandoned another story of mine). Please note that as an Australian my seasons are different to those in the Northern Hemisphere so the way I write about this may be awkward. Takes place in AU after NV but before GI.)

The biting frozen air of the February midnight wormed its way through all surfaces, so that not even the most warm, airtight space could escape its cold weather. Down inside a subway tunnel, its cold embrace wrapped tightly around the station, fearing that it was a friend that would die if it let go. The roaring sounds of express trains echoed around the station as they passed, hurrying passengers across the town with no regards to who was waiting for their train to show. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes wafted throughout the air, gagging those who had no addiction to either substance. Several people were on the ground, asleep, too tired to go on with their journeys at that moment in time. The air was dry and as cold as a piece of metal left in the freezer, there was only a single difference; your tongue wouldn't get stuck to the air.

Readjusting a mask that covered nose and mouth, a young man stared emotionlessly at the timetable that loomed overhead, stating that the train he wished to take would arrive and depart in ten minutes. He saw someone, a couple, start approaching quickly and he pulled his hood over his head, obscuring uneven black hair from the individuals. They seemed to ignore him, which made him content. A hood, however, wouldn't do much good if someone stared at him face-on, right into his chocolate-brown eyes. A good friend would recognise him quite quickly. Still, he made sure to go alone and not tell anyone. He looked down at his watch and then back up at the timetable monitor. 8 minutes.

He gingerly sat down on one of the ice-cold benches and waited for those 8 minutes, readjusting his jacket every once in a while. If he went through with this, there was no going back. But in all honesty, the way his friends had been acting lately…he couldn't take it. Constantly arguing one moment and partying like the no tomorrow the next. Two things he couldn't stand; and he'd been taking them like a bipolar disorder for a whole month. Even he had a breaking point, and they'd breached it. He'd take his chances alone. He glanced back up at the timetable again. 4 minutes until it arrived.

His mind wandered to the conversation that had led to this situation; being out in the subway, a couple hundred dollars concealed in his jacket pocket, freezing and waiting for the train. Dan had been more than a little drunk. He and Dan had argued, as per usual when he was in that state, and it quickly escalated into a fight; Dan had lost easily, though. He'd let loose with everything he had, shouting how he was sick of the fighting and partying. The last words that put the final nail into his plan had been ones shouted in drunken rage by Dan;

"Get lost, Shun."

That was precisely what Shun was doing now; getting lost. Not necessarily "lost" lost, but he'd found that it was easier for him to just sneak off into the middle of the night, covered by the darkness. A gust of cold wind passed and he shivered a little, but soon the gust of wind was revealed to be the train he was meant to catch. He stood up and walked onto the train, glad it wasn't very crowded. He didn't notice miniature footsteps racing down, trying to catch him before he left.

A younger blonde boy pushed past a large crowd, knocking several people over, desperately trying to make his way towards the train. He jumped the last 5 feet as the doors were closing; only just making it onto the train. Some of the passengers stared at him strangely, but he expected that. The train appeared blurry for some reason and he realized his glasses had fallen off. He crawled around on the train floor as it started moving, trying to locate the missing object, before he felt someone hand it to them. With a polite "Thank you", the boy stared around the train carriage for Shun. The boy was in the front carriage, so he had to be in either this one or one further back. He'd recognise him once he saw him. Quickly, the boy glanced around the carriage before venturing into the next one.

Ten minutes, two stations, and 3 carriages later, the boy still hadn't found Shun. As he walked into the next carriage, Shun's head went up, then back down as he attempted to cover his face more. The boy was one of those people who'd recognise him if they got too close… aside from Alice, he'd been the only one who hadn't driven him up the wall. Still, it felt like he'd get an hour long lecture if he got caught. Quickly, he looked out the window and covered his face with the hood. Unfortunately, in his hope he would blend in and the boy would go away, it only gave him away as being the person the boy had sought. The boy walked over and sat down opposite Shun, shivering from the cold that was creeping up his body now he was relaxing.

"I know it's you, Shun, you can stop hiding now." The boy said, and finally Shun gave in, looking down at the boy.

"Why did you follow me, Marucho?" Shun replied, his voice showing signs of irritation and surprise.

"Originally it was to get you to come back, but when I reached the train station, it was fairly obvious that I wasn't going to be able to do that. The reason now is because you should keep someone with you at all times." Marucho replied in a voice that seemed slightly fast-forwarded.

"I don't need to go with someone. I go alone." It was a standard response from him, one that had been made more potent due to the weeks beforehand.

"Well, I need to go with someone." Marucho folded his arms. "I came here largely empty-handed, except for about three hundred dollars."

"Which means you can easily take the next train back home." As if on cue, the train stopped at another station.

"I can't convince you to go back home with me. The next best thing I can do is keep an eye on you until you're ready to go back." Marucho changed his seat from opposite Shun to beside him, finally uncomfortable with the temperature.

"I won't go back for a while. Are you sure you want to stay?"

"Yes."

Shun did something that seemed fairly out of character for him; he wrapped an arm around Marucho's shoulder, acting as a 'big brother' figure.

"I guess I should keep an eye on you, too then."


	4. Suspense: Where Did You Go

(AN: Holy s-triple asterisk guys! I got a spike in reviews which made me so so happy! I love you all so much! As promised to anon reviewer Lulu, Keith one-shot. It may or may not connect onto the Horror oneshot, that's for you readers to decide. It's another horror themed one but it focuses more on psychology than hackey-slashy dissection. It does include that near the end though.)

Rain pounded hard against the glass windows of the apartment building, threatening to break in and rush through with wet embrace. The windows themselves resembled water fountains to onlookers, water rushing down quickly to the floor below. The air was cold and thick, being blown around by the wind but still refusing to let go. The sound of the rushing rain smashing into the glass, along with the occasional pass of a car or opening of a door was all that could be heard.

Until an alarm clock finally rang out through one of the apartment's bedrooms. Groaning and shifting as the unpeaceful, disturbing sound dragged him away from the realm of sleep back to life, a blonde young man slammed his hand down into the clock and sat up. _Strange, my sister usually is my alarm clock, not the alarm clock itself._ He looked around and saw a note on the desk.

_Keith,_

_I've just gone out to get something for breakfast. I don't think you'll need a note, but this is just in case you do something completely different and actually get up early for once._

_-Mira_

At first, Keith was relaxed, until he noticed the alarm clock read 4:30 PM, in all its green digitalized glory. He frowned; how fast asleep was he for Mira to just give up and let him sleep in? He stood up, put on his favourite set of clothes – a brown jacket and pair of pants – and walked out into the main room. No younger sister. There was another note on the door but it didn't look like Mira's handwriting, not even from a distance. Frowning, he opened her bedroom door, hoping to see her fast asleep. Her bed was empty and it wasn't like her to play hide and seek. A flash of lightning illuminated the room and he didn't even hear a peep; it was even more concerning when thunder boomed out and he didn't hear her scream.

After checking every other room in the apartment and not finding his red-haired sister, he grew greatly concerned. Walking over to the door, he read the note he hadn't before. Instead of hasty yet small handwriting with a brown pen, he saw elegant but large writing. The ink was crimson red and speckled; at least, he HOPED it was ink. The message seemed to imply otherwise;

**SHE IS DEAD**

His eyes widened in shock and he dropped the note. He didn't want to believe it, but the evidence did add up to that conclusion. There were no clues as to who left the note; the handwriting wasn't familiar to him at all. Still refusing to believe it, he locked himself back in his room, crawling into the corner and covering his head.

_No, it can't be true._

He awoke to the still-pouring rain outside, a darkened room which had embraced the night, and still no sign of his younger sister. The evidence was becoming more and more obvious; she hadn't texted him, called him, come back or done anything to notify him of her absence. She always did. The phone rang in his pocket and hoping to god Mira had just gotten lost and tried to get back without his help, but eventually decided she needed his help, he put the phone to his ear. A voice that had been disguised as that belonging to a little girl from some sort of horror tale spoke into the earpiece, sending a chill up his spine.

"Hello, Keith, would you like to play a game?"

Before Keith could yell rejection and accusation into the phone, it giggled and spoke again.

"If you do play, you might see Mira again!"

"What have you done with my sister?!" Keith yelled into the phone. The voice giggled again – something that was more irritating than horrifying to Keith – and spoke yet again.

"Play with me and I will tell you…" He saw no alternative…

"Fine. What do you want me to play and where?" He said, his tone irritated yet defeated.

"Oh, just stay where you are, Keith, I can play with you from your apartment… and let's play Hide and Seek Tiggy!" The voice added a giggle to its statement.

As if on cue, a knock came at the front door to the apartment. While a knock wouldn't usually creep him out, this particular one had been accompanied by a bizarre phone call. He jumped up, throwing the phone into the corner. As if it would give him extra protection, he pulled on his red coat and walked out into the main room. As he left to go answer the front door and confront whatever the hell was out there, the kitchen caught his eye. Changing his route, he walked around the kitchen bench and slid open one of the drawers. Several knifes of multiple sizes were there. He picked up one of the larger ones…just in case…and closed the drawer.

He held the knife under his sleeve in his dominant hand as he walked back to the front door. As it knocked again, it was accompanied by that childish giggling again. _So it is that little runt._ With as calm an attitude as he could muster, he hit the "open door" button on the keypad and backed away from the door as a figure dressed all in black ran inside. He couldn't tell if the figure was a he or a she, and that seemed to be their idea. The figure ran past him without doing anything to him, but giggled again; the voice disguiser still over their mouth, even though it was fairly obvious due to height they weren't a child.

"Go hide, silly…" They said and turned around. Keith took a step towards them, but they turned back around. "I SAID GO HIDE!" The sudden change in tone made him involuntarily rush back to his room.

Quickly, Keith practically dived into his wardrobe and shut the door. Quickly, he drew the knife as he heard the voice start counting to ten. They still made an attempt to sound childish which was getting rather old for him. They wandered into other rooms first, like the bathroom, but Keith couldn't tell if they were just playing with his mind or if they were genuinely unsure as to his whereabouts. Finally, he heard the footsteps grow near to his room and stand beside the wardrobe. He heard a tapping noise on it and realised that it was now or never.

Quickly, he opened the door and lunged at the figure, wielding the knife in one hand and knocking them to the floor with the other. Quickly straddling their waist before they could fight back, he slammed the knife down into the figure's shoulder and heard the voice disguiser create a child's scream of pain. The voice disguiser irritated him…so he plunged the knife down into it. It broke down and revealed screaming that was definitely of someone who had grown, but the desperate tone of the screams still made it impossible to tell whether it was male or female…and he didn't care. He placed the knife to the figure's neck, threatening to slice it open.

"Where is she?!" Keith demanded, placing his face near theirs and grasping ahold of the back of their neck forcefully. The figure just kept screaming in pain and Keith saw no reason to keep them alive. He plunged the knife where the heart should be and the figure screamed again, until their throat filled with crimson liquid and they felt death's embrace start to consume them.

Keith pulled the knife back out, noticing it was soaked in blood and had sprayed a little on his face. He looked back down at the figure and realized he'd felt better when he'd stabbed them…so he did it some more. He stabbed it until the corpse was barely recognizable as human; by the time he'd finally finished, his anger had been replaced by sociopathic insanity. His clothes were as red as the coat he wore and it had been long discovered who the figure was, only trying to play a harmless trick.

His younger sister.


	5. Hurt: Red All Alone

(An: Apologies on the misleading AN last time; originally I planned for the black-suited figure to be played by Mylene before realising it would add a better sting in the tail if he succumbed to an insanity by his sister's jokingly dealing. Yet again I opted to write a sad tale over a happy one; if someone wants a happier story, even another romance one, I will be happy to accommodate if you only say so. This certain one is based loosely on the events of the horror games Ib and Mad Father, more so the former; but it's more a hurt story. It involves minor characters from the first season rather than the usual first-second combination.)

A dark hospital room was dimly illuminated by a few dying red flames, eating up what was left of a bed that had held the corpse of a dead boy. A yellow flower lay next to a pile of ashes. Beside the flower was a scalpel, long, thin and sharp. The flames still roared loudly even in their dying moments as the room began to cool back down to sharp and frozen. The air smelt of smoke and gloom, wrapping its appendages around the surrounding area, sapping all hope from those living and dead.

Only one was living.

Chan sat in the corner, clutching tightly to two objects; one, a red flower, still blooming beautifully despite its owner's anguish. The second object was a box of matches, held in with a silver casing adorned with intricate patterns. She felt tears fall as she looked at the matches, and then at what they'd done. Her memory started recalling the events of the past few hours.

It had started when Chan tried to visit her sickened crush in hospital. The illness had struck back and he'd been asleep for days, or so they told her. She'd gone out of her way to find him and find the time to see him. When she finally arrived and got the room number, she wandered off trying to find his room. The lights had flickered off when she had been separated from the rest of the visitors, leaving her alone and confused.

The hospital had taken in patients, who were close to death and had been rejected because of other hospitals not wanting to ruin their reputation, and tried nursing them back to health. When it failed, the evidence was hidden and the corpses were used to create dolls that looked so real, you'd swear they **were** real. They were, in a sense, but not the way most people thought. Their clothes adorned and hid breaking, rotting bodies; they had come back to live as vengeful spirits who pursued the red-clad girl through the halls with no indication of stopping. She'd been glad to find two of her friends here, one being the one she sought to find in the first place, but it had been short lived.

Both friends of hers were now fully dead. The man, her friend Klaus, that had guided her for so long through these horrors, had made an exchange that cost him his life at the hands of her crush, Joe.

"Will you trade flowers with me, yours for Chan's?"

The words repeated over and over in her skull, making it a living hell, especially since she couldn't get him to say no, ever, even when she controlled the vision. His reply was always "Yes."

The exchange cost Klaus dearly; he'd been awake for only thirty seconds longer. He didn't want her to worry, so he had lied to her. She knew what losing petals would do, so she had been horrified to see the brown-haired boy ripping the blue petals away, chanting something under his breath before exclaiming happily and running off.

Hoping her mind had played a cruel trick on her, she'd rushed back, only to find what she saw had been genuine. The gentleman was hunched up against the wall, eyes closed, and his face pale and sick. She'd crouched beside him, taken his hand and sobbed silently into his lavender coat, feeling no heartbeat save for her own, before hearing something fall out of his pocket. A box of matches with a silver casing, adorned with intricate patterns. She'd picked them up, left him with the pendant that lay around her neck as an exchange gift in case he ever woke up, and walked off without another word.

One hospital ward in particular had intrigued her to enter its doors and she looked down at the card she received when heading in; the ward was where Joe had been "asleep". In reality, as Klaus had told her, he had died and she hadn't been told. It was only 2 days ago he'd succumbed to death, so he hadn't been used as a doll yet, but he still no longer belonged in the world of the living. She'd opened the curtains and seen him lying there with a peaceful look on his pale face. It didn't match the outraged face of the same boy she saw only moments later. She'd kicked the boy to the floor and asked him to stop, begged him to stop, forgive her and let her go so they could be happy, but he hadn't even been dazed and was infuriated; the matches were her only option to stop him.

The situation now was she had destroyed any hope she would leave with another individual. She hadn't wanted to do what she did, but she had nearly been stabbed when merely trying to escape. The flames finally died, enveloping the room in nearly complete darkness. She spotted a dustpan in the corner and swept up his ashes along with his scalpel. The flower was left with the ashes of the hospital bed.

As she expected, Klaus hadn't moved since she last saw him. Of course he wouldn't have. She'd placed the ashes and scalpel some distance away, but not much. She left enough of a space for her to sit down with them. She stared down at the red flower in her hand.

_There was, after all, nothing left for her._

Closing her eyes, Chan wrapped her fingers around a petal and pulled it off violently. Her leg opened up a cut and released crimson liquid onto the floor. One down, 9 to go.

Yank.

It was making her feel faint, but she didn't mind anymore, she realized, as she opened her eyes. She knew with every wound, she would be closer to happiness. Two down, eight to go.

Yank.

Her arm opened up a larger cut than the one on her leg and she watched as part of the cute pink bow that adorned her arm warmer soon became as red as the rest of her clothes. Three down, seven to go.

Yank.

She felt her chest near her neck beginning to ache. There was no turning back now, she realized, as she saw some of the yellow clips become red. Four down, six to go.

Yank.

The arm wound became larger and she saw a droplet of blood leak down her arm. It was hurting a lot now. Halfway to death, halfway to happiness.

Yank.

Two petals came away this time, causing her to openly voice her grunts of pain. Her mouth tasted like bitter copper and both her legs hurt a lot now. She didn't mind. Seven down, three to go.

Yank.

Her pain was becoming unbearable. The bitter copper taste emerged from her mouth in the form of blood, slashing onto her clothes. She didn't mind. Eight down, two to go.

Yank.

Her life was hanging on by a dear thread, all her internal organs starting to labour. Her legs hurt too much to move much at all. A doll started to wander towards the corpses and barely-alive girl. Grinning, it took the flower from her grasp and wrapped its own hand around her rose to finish the job. She grinned back. She didn't mind.

Yank.

Finally, she succumbed to death's embrace.


	6. Romance: A Day(te) in the Park

(AN: Aah thank you all so much for the reviews! You make me want to write more. I should probably expand the audience to ones that prefer happy stories; so far, three of the five currently up are dark-themed with at least 1 death. With that note in play, I got requested for 2 romance fics, and while one went against policy on this site, one was still safe to post, so shouting out to AiyanaxXxBlack for the request on this one! Also, I'm really sorry for the delay and the fact this story is shorter than most of them; unfortunately, as you will be able to tell by poor writing, romance is a foreign genre to me.)

The light, cool autumn breeze stirred leaves around the still beautifully green morning park, wisping them into the air and letting them fly like birds or butterflies. They too decorated the air, singing their songs and adding colour to the morning, making it seem like more of an artwork. The air smelt of roses, a patch of them in red and white weaving together, some of them starting to unfortunately wilt, adding occasional patches of drying brown to the otherwise beautiful mix.

Next to the patch of roses was a chair and a boy clutching to two of the less-wilted roses, one white, one red. The wind tousled his brown hair and passed a leaf under his nose and he pulled the roses away just in time to avoid sneezing into them.

"Ew, Dan." A female voice said, and Dan looked up to see a girl standing about a meter away. Dan grinned sheepishly as she readjusted her posture, shifting over to her right foot.

"I can't help it; it's the leaf's fault, Runo!" Dan said, standing up.

"Hmph." Runo replied, but the smirk on her face gave away any serious intent for her statement.

"Um... I think this is yours." Dan said, holding out the red rose. Runo tried to hold back an overreaction but couldn't, and excitedly took the rose, hugging Dan tightly around his shoulders. Dan hugged Runo back, holding her tightly, before they finally broke their embrace at the same time.

"Oh, you got one too?" Runo said, pointing to the white one as she embedded the red one amongst her hair. She'd tied it back in a loose yet neat ponytail.

"Yeah…I thought it would match us up?" Dan said, knowing full well it'd look ridiculous if he stuck it in his own hair, so he tucked it into his jacket pocket. Jokingly imitating a butler for a princess, he bowed and took her hand. Runo couldn't help but giggle a little.

The two walked around the park, admiring the breezy day; it was cool, but not too much so. Eventually, they reached a playground to find that there wasn't a single child in sight. Allowing a childish impulse to take over, Dan jumped up and started climbing a ladder to a slide. Runo looked angry for a moment before he gave her a grin she couldn't refuse. She followed him up the ladder – being thankful for wearing shorts today – and followed him down, accidentally kicking him off at the end of the slide. The two couldn't help but fall backwards onto the bark, laughing until their sides were sore.

"Wow, I didn't think you were still the childish type, Runo." Dan joked, but Runo seemed to take it seriously and she responded by throwing her hand across his face, leaving a bright red mark in its wake which Dan voiced with a cry of pain.

"What was that for?!" Dan yelled. Runo rolled her eyes.

"I'm not _that _serious, am I?" Runo said harshly, but there was still a subtle tone to it that seemed childish. He laughed and she couldn't help but return a smile.

"Race you to the swings!" She said excitedly, jumping up and running towards them. Half-irritated, half joyous, Dan got up and chased her over to the swings.

Within minutes, they were soaring through the air, back and forth, both free and imprisoned at the same time. The air flew fast and cool past them, but neither seemed to mind. Suddenly, while going forward, Dan did something daring and fairly stupid; while swinging forward, he let go of the swing and snapped free from the hold, landing on his feet and raising both his arms in a Y shape, as if to say 'Tada!' Runo decided to do the same, but when letting go she lost her balance and went flying, knocking Dan over like he was a bowling pin and sending all the air out of his lungs and disorientating them completely. When they both managed to become aware of where they were - which was Runo laying on top of Dan - they got up, their faces flushing red. Both of them looked away from one another, too nervous to try and explain what had happened. After a while, they both managed to look at each other again and decided to just finish the walk in the park before anything else awkward happened.

They arrived back at the rose bush with dirt dusted on their skin and clothes, looking no-where near as neat as they had before. Runo felt her hand go sweaty, but when she tried to rub it on her skirt, it didn't dry off. She looked down to see that subconsciously, she'd grabbed ahold of Dan's hand. Her face going scarlet, she quickly let go and looked away. Dan had done the same, his face nearly as red as his jacket.

"Um…Runo…quick question…was this a date?" He asked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck to ease some sort of invisible discomfort.

"Well...uh, yeah Dan." Runo replied, politely clasping her hands together and straightening her arms. She then felt an arm wrap around her shoulders.

"I expected a date too…Don't you remember this?" Dan gently pulled the rose out of Runo's hair and showed it in front of her. Smiling, Runo walked over to the seat, leaving space for Dan to sit down. Within minutes, the two had gone from simple sitting to a close embrace. Eventually, Dan leaned in to steal a kiss.

It was reacted to by a light smack across his left cheek before he saw Runo giggle and kiss him back.


	7. Romance: Candlelight Obsession

(AN: GusXMira romance story requested by either two similar people or the same person twice. Don't worry; I get around to these stories eventually! Also, I thought I'd warn you, school is going to start up for me again soon and I'll be going into the year where I have to think about my future[I.E Year 10], which means fewer updates, but feel free to leave requests or I may go back to horror stories *laughs*. I still love you all sweeties 3)

The sky above looked like a midnight blue canvas, dotted heavily with glitter, silver paint and sequins. Cool air blew lightly past, making the night cold but bearable. A garden grew dark green bushes and grass, illuminated by a single candle which managed to pick out orange marigolds and make their appearances appear like fire. A white marble bench stood beneath an oak tree, with many limbs reaching for freedom from the garden like it was a prison, a beautiful prison with rainbow colours that would dance in the wind.

A young man lay down on the bench, but he wasn't asleep. He couldn't sleep, and it wasn't because of the cold bench seeping through his sky blue hair to reach his skin and bone. He couldn't stop thinking about her…his master's sister.

Initially, he'd thought her as nothing but exactly that; just someone related to his master. Yet as he spent more time with the two…he seemed to form a bond with her. They were both Subterra battlers, so that was a start; they could share strategies without having to improvise them into another attribute. But slowly, just as his master had done, she began to entrance him. He wondered if he was just really easy to manipulate, or if his master's family just had this vibe to him, or even both or neither, but why wasn't important.

Overtime he noticed his bond to his master growing weaker. He began calling him "Keith" instead of "Master Spectra", he gave him much more space than what he would usually have done, and more time was spent with his red-haired sister. The bond eventually surpassed the inseparable friendship of his to Keith, and he soon came to realise that he loved her. That evening, when he went to make it known to her as well, he'd seen her with the green-haired boy, Ace Grit. The two had been sharing a very close embrace which he took as a romantic move. While he did his best to keep himself calm, eventually, he'd walked outside and ran to the garden, lighting a single candle to allow light to the garden.

The wind was fighting against the light, trying to blow the flame out. The leaves, while knowing that the candle could be dangerous to them, protected the flame as best as they could. He watched the flame dance and his thoughts wandered to Spectra, but they quickly turned to his sister Mira. The flickering light mimicked her hair colour nearly completely. Aside from the slight rustling of the leaves and near-silent sound of his breathing, silence enveloped the garden. At least, until, footsteps started to approach. Guessing it was Spectra, he immediately stood up and blew out the candle, but not before seeing a small shadow that couldn't have been a male. To make sure, he lit the candle again to see Spectra's sister standing in front of him.

"Gus, are you alright?"

Gus nearly let his emotions get the better of him, but with a clearing of his throat, he managed to supress it.

"I am fine." He said, but it was fairly clear he was lying, and Mira wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

"You don't look like it. Why don't we sit down?" Mira gestured to the seat, and Gus reluctantly agreed and obeyed. "Now, what's wrong?"

"I…" Gus clutched his coat tightly and flinched. "Before I tell you, is something going on between you and Ace?"

"I haven't seen him in a while, and I was glad to see him, but if you mean romantically, then no." Mira added a giggle onto the last part.

"I love you." Gus blurted out; a second later, he wished he'd been more subtle. He looked at Mira's face to see a look of shock, but he couldn't interpret what kind of shock. He stared down at the candle, expecting her to stand up and walk away.

He felt an arm close around the back of his shoulders.

He looked back to see Mira's eyes meet his own, in a staredown that didn't seem to end. It was awkward, but neither of them could look away. It was like the oak tree above had grasped their heads and bound their heads there so they wouldn't move. Slowly and subconsciously, Gus' own arm moved to situate itself around Mira's waist. Time passed and nothing happened; they didn't move away, they didn't get closer together. A cold gust of wind passed and finally, Mira moved, burying her head into Gus' chest to keep warm. Gently, he moved his arms to hold her closely, keeping her warm. Again, for a while, neither of them moved. The candle nearby started dying out as the wind started to get stronger. He then felt her head leave his chest, only to return with a kiss. Once they started, it was difficult to stop. The candle went out eventually, but the two were too engrossed with their love they failed to notice. Finally, they managed to separate.

The two breathed heavily for a few moments, trying to recover their breath, before Gus finally noticed the candle had gone out. Groaning, he lit a match and set the candle alight again. He turned around to see Mira picking an orange-yellow rose from the bush. She put its petals near the flame and soon, it lit up. There was something about the beauty of its imagery that captivated them both until the petals were nothing but ash and a sweet-smelling smoke. For a moment, it was like they were two children staring in wonder at a large, abnormal building. As the rose's flame died, so did their wonder. Finally, Mira blew the candle out and picked it up.

"Let's go back inside."


	8. Horror-Romance: Midnight Box

(AN: So I've been working on an OC oneshot that's pretty much practice for another oneshot involving OCs, but I put it on hold to try and take a crack at SpectraxMylene, since I consider it a challenge to keep them in-character and have them fall for each other. So this is really meant to be the 9th oneshot but it's the 8th, ha ha. I thought horror themes would work well for this couple, so prepare for a dual-theme as I attempt to balance my best genre and your favourite genre! How it works: if you choke down the horror you're rewarded with romance. Romance written at 11pm at night 2 days before school starts again.)

The huge shopping centre was pitch-black at this time of night, the sound of a thunderstorm looming overhead like an abusive parent to their child. The rain threatened to break through the skylights and fill the promenade with rainwater. The temperature was cold and humid, as if some of the rain had already fallen inside. A small object, a simple plush toy, could be heard dragging itself along with a mind of its own, its appearance distorted and its hand wrapped around the firm blade of a knife, chasing the only source of light in the mall; a hand holding a torch, a flashlight, its beam glowing pale blue, almost white, across the tiled floor, illuminating a couple of isolated patterns.

The hand attached to the torch belonged to a young man, fleeing from the plush toy as fast as his legs could carry him. He was surprised the doll even managed to keep up. He could hear its bean-bag fillings crashing closer and closer and knew his stamina, while great, wouldn't last forever. He soon saw the lights of a shop on and immediately ran towards it, thanking goodness when the door opened without a fight. He could see a figure in the darkness and made out the basic shape of an axe. Before he could question it, a female voice lifted up into a shout.

"Get down, loser!"

Despite the insult, his instincts told him to do as the voice demanded. He managed to catch the woman slamming the axe into the toy, sending red stuffing flying out like blood. He shined the torch towards the woman and she held her hand up to her eyes, covering them from the harsh beam of light.

"Can you not, Spectra?!" She shouted, and the beam was lowered from her eyes.

"Well, it's nice to see you too, Mylene."

It didn't take long for more toys and figures to find their way in and the two left the store fairly quickly; Mylene could have been completely sociopathic with the axe in her arms, hitting them like a child hyperactive on sugar, and still probably couldn't have taken them all out. For them, it was only a side-goal to protect the other. The knife from the toy earlier was in the same hand that held the torch; the other hand was subconsciously wrapped around Mylene's wrist. She couldn't protest, since she was too busy looking behind her every 3 seconds to check on how close the mall-gone-rabid objects were getting. Eventually, they reached an elevator, which Spectra opened rushed into, the doors closing on a robot dog, smashing it into an electrical pancake which short-circuited the doors, causing them to stay closed no matter what button was pressed. Frustrated, he took Mylene's axe and started slamming it against the door.

"Are you a moron or something?! They're right behind the door!" She yelled, trying to take her axe back. Between the fact he was dealing with a merciless woman who had obtained control of the knife and the fact what she said was logical, he dropped the axe and sat down. With no more reason to stay angry, Mylene sunk down to the ground too. She slid the knife back along the floor and dragged the axe over by its handle. With the lights on, Spectra turned off the flashlight.

It also didn't take long for the two to become quite bored. Within an hour, they decided between going to sleep and possibly being murdered through the elevator's ceiling and talking to each other, they would talk to each other. The topics weren't particularly interesting; simply what their childhoods were like. Soon, they became restless again, and didn't want to try the first floor exit. Hoping it would do something, Mylene hit the panel to go to a different floor. The panel responded by sparking out and cutting out all power to the lift. Frustrated, Spectra turned the torch back on, illuminating the elevator, but nowhere near as effectively as the light above had. He put it in the centre of the floor, facing up to the ceiling.

"Looks like we're stuck in here." He said, provoking a growl from Mylene.

They had no idea how much time had passed; they were hungry and tired. The only thing they could do was talk to each other; at first, the idea had repulsed them both, but now it seemed second nature. They had traded a number of experiences and had been thankful their attackers hadn't figured out how to come through the roof of an elevator. However, their attackers somehow managed to fiddle with the elevator's thermostat, making the small metal box freezing cold even for them; and they were dressed like they were going to be stuck in the middle of a Russian war. The only way they saw that they could keep warm was to huddle together. At first, the silence mad it seem as if the two were going to tug-of-war with the knife until one of them got stabbed, but as time went on (and the room got colder) they started to…enjoy it. The feeling was completely foreign to Mylene, being so close to someone yet not sticking a knife into their chest and enjoying it… It didn't seem right to her and at the same time, it did. Spectra had felt similar with his sister; cuddling with her on cold nights when they were little…this was a little different, though. Mylene wasn't related to him; he didn't need to care about her…yet somewhere in his heart, he wanted to. The feelings seemed to confuse them in one way or another.

The temperature eventually stabilized where if the two separated to opposite sides of the lift, they would be dead within minutes from hypothermia. So they stayed together, becoming quite comfortable in each other's embrace, pushing up against the corner of the lift. They had tried very subtle things to keep warmer, but they didn't make them feel any different. The axe and knife lay in the other corner, simply being cold lumps of wood, plastic and metal. The torch provided light, so it had been brought closer. Mylene had, earlier, found a box of matches and lit one of them every once in a while to warm their faces up a little, but it didn't work and their faces remained cold for most of the time. The matches were running out, too, and the wood from the axe's handle just wouldn't catch fire. It was too polished. Something made itself known in her mind; if she kissed Spectra, they would be warm within moments. The idea would have been considered utterly repulsing once, but now…she may have been going insane from being locked in so long, but it tempted her like a fish to a worm on a hook. It was dangerous if a harsh reaction was given, but she wanted to tempt fate. She tapped at some of the commands on Spectra's mask and took it off his face, revealing a pair of turquoise eyes a similar shade to her own often nearly completely obscured by the red, intricate mask. Before she could even try to gather the somehow-absent courage to make her move, something rushed up against her face and made contact with her mouth.

Spectra's mouth.

Her own resistance seemed to fail her; it could have been the room was too cold to refuse him, or she could have genuinely wanted him there, but at that moment…it didn't seem to matter. It felt as if the room was heating up again, but she knew it obviously wasn't; her breath still came out in condensate clouds. She couldn't separate…and she didn't want to.

He had thought that she would push him away harshly by now, and the fact she didn't mind…that she was kissing back, even, had shocked him on the inside. Her heart, he always thought, was a black abyss of murderous intentions; and something that kept her alive. Something as cold as the metal box they were stuck in. But he guessed that even the coldest of hearts could eventually warm up.

They were found the next morning fast asleep on the floor of the elevator, their arms wrapped around each other. The two were still alive, but their bodies had simply given up for the time being due to the lack of sleep. The lift was eerily cold, though…


	9. Supernatural-Horror: Devil

(AN: Sorry for the lack of update recently; while there has been 2 requests, I can't do either of them. I don't know enough about Fabia's personality to attempt to write about her [She'd, unfortunately, act more like Chan since I use voice imagination to get lines down] and I wasn't given a good enough description of an OC to attempt writing about them. So I decided to try and write more of my preferred genres (Supernatural/Contemporary folklore in this case). It is considerably shorter than most of my oneshots. It is gory; warning you now.)

Orange light bounced off of the frozen stone columns of the cathedral as candles near the sanctum burned slow and long. A semi-circle of salt separated each of the 5 candles, the ring of white glowing among the darkness. The smell of candle wax and smoke enveloped the cathedral, thinly, not enough to be difficult to breathe. The temperature was freezing despite the flames. Red thread circled in a blood-like spiderweb around a shiny but small mirror, showing the face of a rather handsome man, with black, messy hair and dark red eyes; the face of the Devil himself.

Looking back at him was a boy at 14 years of age, dressed in rather fine but uncomfortable clothes. Glasses adorned his face, framing big blue eyes full of curiosity at the entity staring back at him. He had been staring at it for a long while now, past the occasional blonde lock falling into his eyes and forcing him to try and push it out without breaking eye contact, and had desperately attempted to avoid losing track of time, to no avail. It had ways of making even his intelligent mind forget and slip through the cracks of time

The two had been playing a folklore game; The Devil's Game. The boy believed that he could formulate a riddle of which the entity in front of him could not answer; he'd managed to create only one that he'd answered wrong, and that was only because it had two answers which he could alternate between. He'd become thouroghly confused at what was the truth and what was a lie, so he forced himself to believe whatever the thing in front of him told him was a lie. He'd nearly broken eye contact and cried when he'd heard him say that Ace considered him a friend; however, on that occasion, he'd been told the truth.

Finally, the boy, Marucho, called the game off and finished it. He'd thought he'd seen the entity grin at him with a sense of success in his eyes, however he ignored it. He stood up and attempted to leave the sanctum, but when he'd opened the door, there was nothing but a sea of darkness in front of him. Thouroghly confused, he turned around and looked back at the mirror to see his own body grinning at him with a sense of evil triumph. As if it would help, he rushed back to the mirror, taking care not to break the circle and make things worse than they already were, slammed against it with small, now ghost-like hands. They went through the glass and he could see them in the outside world, but they were not as they should be; they were cut all over and covered in crimson red. He'd failed to keep under the limit of 66 minutes and 6 seconds; the price was either his freedom or wellbeing.

Marucho decided that making sure his friends didn't mistake the Devil for him was more important than making sure he was alright and well. He dragged himself through the mirror and felt agonizing pain shoot through his body as he crawled through. He was small, so he fit through it, but not without trouble. His glasses had broken and some of the shards had crawled into his left eye, nearly rendering him completely blind. His body looked mangled as if a corpse in a horror film that the killer had decided to continue mutilating after his death; considerable chunks of skin had been removed from his arms and legs. His shirt was nearly completely red; only small spaces around the edges were left dry and free of blood. He hurt all over and in any other circumstance would have fallen over and tried to recover.

Satan only grinned at his handiwork; with his appearance, there was no chance that the boy would be able to convince his friends of the truth. He laughed as the boy tried to speak, but threw up blood onto the cold stone floor; and was pleased to hear the boy's laughter leave his mouth. Outside he could hear the young man Marucho had asked about; Ace. Faking a scream, he ran to the door and bashed on it; hearing footsteps running towards the door on the dirt footpath. He felt a gush of liquid hit his back, but before he could turn around to question it, a pair of hands ripped away the glasses from his head and pulled him backwards. Growling, he hit the boy hard in the chest, sending him towards the floor. A shard of glass hit him in the leg and he looked down, confused to see the broken glasses at his feet. He saw the boy placing on the fixed glasses; or that's what he could make out. He really DID have poor eyesight.

The door slammed open, revealing what appeared to simply be a green, purple and white blur carrying something grey and curved at the end. He felt it grab his shoulders.

"Are you alright, Marucho?" It - or he - asked, genuinely concerned. Continuing to feign fear, he turned around and gestured to the real Marucho.

"That...that thing, it attacked me!" Satan replied. Ace looked at his gesture but couldn't help but smell something fishy. It was still recognisable as a boy; even if only just. Along with that, his hair had been lucky to remain largely untainted. Enough blood had left his stomach to speak; even in fractured sentences.

"Ace...no...it's...a..." he couldn't finish as blood again gushed from his mouth, taking with it any strength he had to continue standing up. Deciding to try and give him a chance, Ace walked towards the mutilated 'copy', trying to hear it out.

"Calm down. What is it?" Ace asked.

"Trick..." Marucho replied, pointing to Satan.

"He's casting the trick! Don't listen to him!" He said in his defense, desperately trying to keep up his act. It had been over 200 years since he'd been played with as he became passed off as a myth. He wanted to go and fetch more souls personally; he knew the boy had plenty of friends despite a lonely upbringing.

Ace stared at them both and considered scenarios; Marucho wouldn't mutilate his own body; he wouldn't even be able to. The wounds seemed to be man-made, and he severely doubted that Marucho would injure someone on that scale; not even by accident. He slowly let go of Marucho and stood between both of them.

He would play one question in their game.

"What did you say to me before you left to play this ritual?" He asked, looking at them both alternatively. Ace knew how the game worked; if it hadn't been written down, there was much less of a chance of the Devil knowing the answer. Before Satan could even attempt to answer, more blood erupted onto the floor from Marucho's mouth, clearing his stomach to speak clearly.

"I...can do...what I want...Ace..." It was in a neutral tone, nothing like the determined tone that had been used when it had been said before; but it was word-for-word what he had said. Pretending to ignore what Marucho had said, Ace pretended that Marucho was wrong and approached Satan.

"Let's go, Marucho." He said, giving a fake smile. Satan turned around, feeling victory stir through his mind, only to have it literally crushed when he felt immense pain strike the back of his head. The metal pipe Ace had been holding was now congulated with blood. He didn't stop at one strike; he continued to smash the pipe into Satan's head until it was unrecognisable. Soon enough, he sunk back through the floor, the boy's reflection no longer serviceable as a physical body.

Turning back to go help Marucho with his injuries, Ace nearly fell over in surprise when he found Marucho absolutely fine. He was frightened out of his wits, sure, but the physical injures were nowhere to be found. Even his eye had been healed. Ace held his hand out to Marucho, smiling; genuinely this time.

"Let's go." Still frightened, but trusting, Marucho took Ace's hand and walked out of the cathedral with him as the first rays of daylight began to shine on the windows.


	10. Supernatural-Romance: Ghost Manor (long)

(AN: Apologies if there are incorrectly spelled words in this and the last chapter; my laptop has been ghosted and during the school term I rarely start up my laptop on weekdays. I've been using Wordpad on a Vista machine in the time being, so I can't even check my word count *laughs* Since the plot was already fairly elaborate, this one-shot may be longer than my others. Again, I cannot tell. I'm excited whenever I get challenged to place a character out of their comfort zone though *grins* Also present-tense is, well, present, since this oneshot requires both tenses)

The thundering rain outside pours its heart out onto the rusting, holey tin roof above, seeping through the cracks and leaking along the wall. It bashes itself in through the cracks of the window and soaks the mouldy, wooden floorboards with cold water, adding to a rather foul smell that eminates through the hall. The symphony of falling rain, creaking floorboards, straining glass and old doors fills the hallway with its terrifying song. It unnerves the only lightsource in the hall as it fizzes out, and then becomes clear again as a single flame strikes to life. A lantern, being held in the hand of a boy no older than 14. A flash of lightning cracks through the darkness for a split second and the boy jumps against the wall, his heart going into a temporary state of slight panic. It passes as soon as it arrived, and he calms down and returns to his 'what the hell am I even doing' state.

Dan had proposed a dare to the pink haired boy, Lync; stay the night in a haunted house with someone of his choice and he'd win 75 dollars. He'd agreed to the haunted house, as he wanted to rub it in Dan's face when he came back perfectly alright, but refused the 'help'. Fed up, Dan chose for him; when he'd pointed to Alice, both hers and Lync's reaction had been obvious shock. Still, it was too late to go back, and with a box of McDonalds for two and a pair of sleeping bags, they'd been shut inside with no way back until morning; almost as if on cue, the sky started bucketing with rain as soon as Dan and Shun had driven off, Dan leaving only Alice with a contact number if things went horribly wrong. As in, Lync attempted to do something that put her in danger.

Very quickly, both of them had been bored out of their mind. The food had been finished a while ago and the sleeping bags were out, but neither of them were particularly tired. Initially, Alice had proposed they explore the house, but Lync had quickly refused. Alice blamed it on him being a coward, which he quickly denied. Originally, Alice had only been teasing him; it quickly turned into a full-out warfield, using their pillows like atomic bombs and the loose tables as trenches, a bit like a pillow fight but more like a war. He had been surprised Alice would even knock a table over, let alone throw whatever soft things were around and some moderately hard things were around over the top of it. Still, soon they decided it was better to pack up and remembered why they'd fought in the first place. They were still wide awake and it was still early. Still, Lync surrendered to boredom and laid back on the bag, staring up at the ceiling as the light had flickered off quickly and then back on several times.

Neither of them thought anything of a flickering light; it was an old haunted house and despite her innocent nature, Alice had watched enough horror movies to take little notice of a failing light. It didn't even seem to scare Lync. Both of them agreed to just go to sleep since nothing interesting seemed to be happening; until Lync had almost fallen unconscious. A laughing voice had filled the hall, belonging to a child. A little confused, he'd sat up immediately as something Alice had thrown earlier struck him in the shoulder.

"Alice!" Lync said, turning to her sleeping bag, but she was only just regaining consciousness; she had fallen asleep surprisingly fast.

"What...?" She said, but he didn't reply. If she were fast asleep...what the hell had thrown something at him? He heard something slide along the wooden floor, producing a loud creak, and heard a whimper of fright. Turning, he saw Alice edging out of her sleeping bag and slowly back towards the wall, pointing across the room. He followed her hand, seeing the top half of a suit of armour walking - well, crawling - towards them. He'd thrown the bag off as fast as he could, covering the armour's head with the bag, crawled to his feet as Alice was doing, and left the room as fast as his legs could carry him, running alongside her.

They'd searched for an empty room throughout the three stories above; clearly whoever had owned this house before were wealthy people. Old chipped paintings on the wall suddenly seemed more sinister as they reflected them dying and being stabbed - Alice more so than Lync for an unknown reason - and the darkness and rain only added to the atmosphere of horror they both felt. Finally, they'd found what seemed to be an empty storeroom, save for a book of some sort, a lantern, a box of matches and a bloodstained pair of children's scissors. Alice had opened the book, revealing a diary of some sort. She opened it up a few pages past the beginning. The font was rather crude, indicating it belonged to a child.

_Dear Diary, _

_Daddy came to my room today. I thought he would forgive me for staying sick but he didn't. He hit me and it felt bad. Mother came up to see what the fuss was about, and he said that I had tried to run away. Mother believed Daddy and hit me too. It hurts and I don't know what I've done wrong. I tried to ask but they wouldn't tell me._

She flicked through the diary more, revealing more of the story written among the pages. But just as she started reading the last entry, the book started screaming, causing her to throw the book across the room and crawled into the corner, frightened out of her wits. Lync stared over, knowing he should do something, but what could he do? Go out there on his own? As if the wind could read his mind, the sole window of the room cracked, allowing rain to fall onto the floor. Guided by the wind, it pointed to the door. Leaving Alice with his coat so she could keep warm, he finally opted to leave and find an explanation. He didn't want to, he had to.

As the moment of shock finally passes, he opens another door and looks to the floor. It was clearly a musical recreation room, as an old, dusty piano and untuned guitar lay against each other on the ground. The piano starts to play itself, causing Lync to initially jump back in surprise before walking over in curiousity. For a split second, he thinks he sees a translucent person playing the piano, but it fades quickly and he sees the piano simply playing itself. When it stops, he presses a couple of keys - which makes it fairly obvious he has little idea on how to play a piano - before he feels something tug his sleeve towards the piano. He places the lantern on the seat and pulls back towards the door, and eventually whatever is grabbing his arm lets go, sending him onto the floor with a thud. Brushing himself off, he grabs the lantern and leaves the room. As he opens the door, he sees the same figure from the piano appear in front of him; a girl that can't be older than 7. She has long, curly peach hair and a dark empty socket instead of her left eye; her right eye is brown. The dress she is wearing, a lilac and black one that reaches to the floor, would be cute if there wasn't a huge, bloody hole where her heart should have been. She has a forlorn expression on her face. She soon disappears, leaving a single note in her wake. Bending over, Lync picked it up and read it.

_Are you like Father? What about the girl? She looks like Mother. Is she like Mother?_

Confused, Lync puts the note in his pocket. As he looks up, a strange painting meets his eyes and he immediately cups his mouth to stop him from screaming in surprise.

The painting depicts a family of three smiling towards the artist who was painting it; a family portrait. Judging by the kind of paint and the style it was in, it has been done at least one hundred years ago. That alone didn't scare him; it was the resemblence.

The man has short, well combed pink hair and deep turquoise eyes. He holds the woman and child close and is dressed rather finely; in greens and blacks. The woman has red hair like fire and brown eyes the shade of oak. Her clothes consist of a green dress with a dark purple petticoat. The young girl between the two smiles brightly; even though here she was a couple of years younger, she has the peach hair of her father and the brown eyes of her mother. She is dressed in a dress like her mother, but wears a green and black petticoat.

Lync picks up his lantern and rushes frantically back to the room he had left Alice in, hoping to find her in the corner and that she has calmed down at least a little. He throws the door open, intending to tell her of his find; but aside from him and the diary, he finds the room completely empty. Hoping to find an answer, he picks up the diary and reads the entry that Alice couldn't.

_Dear Diary,_

_Mother came up and screamed at me more. She said she wishes I was dead so she could move to the new house in the country and not have to look after me. I heard her yelling at Father, saying something about my scissors I use for papercraft. My parents used to love it, along with my piano playing, but now I'm dieseased I cannot without help. My mother's coming back up the stairs and I can hear scissors snapping...what is she doing?_

The page then starts to bleed, much to his horror, and another note falls from the pages. Again, he picks it up and reads it.

_I've taken the girl that looks like Mother to the rooftop. If you love her, come up._

He knows he should just pick up the phone number, make up a lie and leave. But for an unknown reason, he finds the staircase and starts to ascend. Halfway up the staircase, he questions himself and why he's doing this. Alice, to him, is a friend...but now he second guesses himself. Does he love her or is he just doing this to save himself? He then remembers that the phone number and Alice's phone were lying on the ground. If he wants to save himself, shouldn't he just call Dan and high-tail it? It's like a game of Loves Me, Loves Me Not, but it seems like his own grasp on reality and his sanity are playing the part of the flowers. Finally, the last petal falls and the answer was clear.

He loves her.

As told, he finds her on the roof, the ghost girl clutching onto her hand and dragging her down the roof, towards the edge, as if intending to throw her to the ground several stories below.

"Stop!" Lync shouts, holding out his hand. He is already soaked through, as Alice is. The girl turns around and grins.

"Mother deserves this. She killed me." The girl says, continuing to drag Alice down the roof.

"She isn't your killer!" Lync starts to make his way down the roof, trying to get Alice away.

"Daddy, you loved me, didn't you?" The girl looks directly at him and he can't help but retreat a little.

"I...I'm not Daddy." He shakes his head. "I'm Lync."

"Daddy...his name was Lawrence..." The girl looks at Alice. "Are you Mother?"

Alice shakes her head as Lync had done. "I'm Alice."

"Mother was named Alice...you are Mother. My murderer." The girl grips hard to Alice's hand and pulls it hard towards the edge of the rooftop. Lync has only seconds to react. He grabs Alice's other hand and pulls her over; the girl no longer applying pressure, falls over too. The two girls fall either side of him, both of them laying an arm across his chest. The girl tries to climb over him and strangle her, but he manages to hold her down.

"Stop it, Lilith!" Alice shouts, and as if possessed under a spell, the girl stops struggling.

"My first name...Mother never called me that after the sickness struck..." Her appearance suddenly becomes less gory as the dress looses its chest cavity and her left eye reappears. She, for once, is smiling.

"You're not Mother...I should have known." The girl says, looking down as if crying.

"It's OK...we won't hurt you..." Alice says as the girl grasps onto both of their hands at the same time.

Suddenly, the scenery changes. The storm still rages outside, but the room appears in much better condition. The girl lies in her bed, writing an entry into a diary; one that appears relatively new. The word "Lilith" is painted on the front; a word that faded with time. It is like their roles have been reversed; now, Lync and Alice play the transparent ghosts. However, unlike Lilith, they cannot interact; only observe. Alice reads over the girl's shoulder, the words she was not allowed to read before due to Lilith's rage. Suddenly, the door thrashes open, and even though they cannot be hurt, both Lync and Alice back away from the door. The older woman from the painting stands at the door, holding a pair of small scissors with intricate patterns engraved onto it.

"Mother!" Lilith says, slamming the book shut and dropping it under the bed.

"Little brat...come here." She says, and before the girl can even get up, the woman walks over. "You shouldn't have been born..." She says, and slams the scissors into her left eye. A scream envelops the room, followed by Lilith's frantic calls for her father.

"Daddy can't help you, rat." The woman calls, and slides the blade along Lilith's chest. Reaching inside, she pulls out her heart, spraying her blood across the two. Feeling completely woozy, Alice soon passes out, falling through the floor. As Lilith closes her eyes filling with tears, more footsteps are heard. The girl's body falls to the floor and her remaining eye falls on the figure. Before Lync can clearly see who it is, he falls through the floor too.

Screaming, both of them wake up at once, much to Lilith's dismay and discomfort.

"I don't like it when you're scared." She says, frowning. Alice gives a pitiful smile in an apology. Another ghostly figure suddenly appears on the rooftop.

"Daddy?!" Lilith cries, and stands up, running to the figure. It indeed resembles the girl's father.

"I'm so sorry I didn't make it in time..." The father says. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Daddy, it's OK." Lilith pauses. "I love you Daddy."

"I love you too, Lilith." The father and daughter pair walk back inside as the clouds begin to part, revealing a dawning sunlight. The girl appears one last time.

"Thank you...you helped me realise Daddy didn't hate me, he was just scared of Mother. He wanted to protect me in truth. Now I can ascend..." Lilith smiles one last time and disappears, two pendants lying in her wake. Picking them up, Lync and Alice find notes in the shapes of delicate paper crafts, intricate patterns placed among them. A single phrase lies on the notes.

_Thank you._

The two place the pendants around their necks and watched the sun continue to rise, the remaining rain casting a dawning rainbow. They stare in awe at it, Alice becoming a little confused when Lync lies his head on her shoulder, but soon enough she enjoys his company. As the show finishes, they walk down to retrieve their things so they can go home. As promised, at 7AM, Dan and Shun are waiting at the front of the house, beeping the horn as Dan grows more impatient by the second.

"Hurry up or we're leaving you hereeee!" Dan yells as Alice and Lync emerge from the house, carrying the sleeping bags under their arms. Both of them crawl into the back seat, placing the bags along the floor, as the door shuts and the car takes off.

"So, how was it?" Dan asks, grinning.

"There was-" Lync starts, but a sharp nudge from Alice changes his story. "...nothing really interesting that happened. Sure a couple of lights flickered, but it's an old house."

"Dan knows the truth, Lync, surely you do too." Shun says in a monotone voice, but it doesn't match the face he gives Dan as the lights approach.

"Aw man, dude, you promised not to tell!" Dan says, his hands slamming on the horn and provoking odd stares from the passers-by. Alice laughs, her hand subconsciously wrapping around Lync's. Lync notices, and closes his own hand around hers, and is thankful that Shun doesn't notice; or he does notice and decided he'd pick another time to throw him around like a ragdoll. Suddenly, a question emerges from Lync's mouth;

"So...Dan...where's my 75 bucks?"


	11. Suspense: Rotting Meat

(AN: I apologize greatly for not updating in fiddlesticking ages. Just as I got my writer's block out of the way, I was suddenly not able to use the computer for a month. Basically, my worst nightmare is a world without internet. I also apologize for this chapter still being ridiculously poor quality and not one of the requests; believe me, I've wanted to write one! I just don't have the muse for any of the requests. It's also a shorter oneshot [The shortest I've ever written], and again, a dark one. I'll get back to your requests and better writing soon.)

A cool breeze blew against the window, against a dark red velvet curtain. On an oak wood table, lined with intricate carvings, lay a small box of matches inside a silver tray. A white ceramic flower vase with several red, white, pink and yellow roses inside stood next to it. Two archways led in opposite directions and a third stood opposite the window, giving the room an odd feel. A small teacup stood on the table, the remains of a coffee lining the bottom with a brown ring. The cup had gone cold a long time ago.

A girl walked into the room, noticing the half-finished cup on the table. Shaking her head with a smile, she picked it up and held it delicately, deciding to take it to the kitchen to wash up. She walked through vast hallways, before the stench of something rotting caught her senses by surprise. She hit her face with the cup when trying to cover her nose, and when she applied her hand to soften the pain, the cup cascaded to the stone floor below and shattered. Quickly and not minding if a ceramic shard pierced her pale hand, she started to pick up the pieces and place them neatly in the pocket of the apron she was wearing. The smell of rotting – now the girl was certain belonged to some sort of rotting meat – came back to her, and feelings of revulsion turned to curiosity. She managed to find the smell coming from a small cabinet built into the wall, not far from the kitchen. Her hands felt the lining of the wooden door and eventually found the handle, which she pulled open, exposing the source of the smell.

Two legs lay in the cabinet, clearly decaying. The only reason it wasn't a flies' nest was it was cut off from them. After recovering from initial shock that nearly had her screaming, she suddenly felt feelings of unsafety rise up in her and clutched long, red locks as if they'd give her some sort of protection. All it did was rip some of the strands out. She decided it would be best to pretend she saw nothing and closed the cabinet, making her way to the kitchen.

She had no choice but to throw out the shards of the cup. That part, she would have to inevitably tell him; the man who had invited her and her friend for the weekend would be sceptical if a cup 'suddenly' went missing. She smelt the smell of rotting meat again and fear began to grip her heart. Hoping she was just hallucinating the horrid smell, she pinched her nose. But it did nothing, and the smell wasn't coming from the cabinets. She managed to figure out it was coming from the fridge this time. Closing her eyes, she opened up the fridge and re-opened her eyes.

An arm lay in the fridge among items that were actually food; except for a single, bloodstained butcher's knife. Panic enclosing around her, she shut the fridge audibly and backed up towards the counter behind her, her breathing becoming rapid. She looks back to see a set of several other knives, all in relatively good condition, presumably actually used for food preparing. The thought of last night's dinner suddenly seemed sickening. Had she eaten someone without realising it? Could it even have been one of her friends? It became a struggle to keep herself from vomiting. Regardless, once she beat her urges, she took one of the longer knives from the set and wandered out. She had to find her friend and they had to get out.

As soon as she stepped out into the hall, a female voice called out.

"Alice?"

Alice immediately turned to the source of the noise to see her friend standing at the other end of the hall. Something seemed off about her, but Alice failed to recognize what.

"Chan?" She called back, and encouraged by her voice, Chan immediately ran over and clutched to Alice's shoulders in desperation; an emotion she very rarely showed. What was even stranger was Chan's sense of direction was almost perfect, yet now Alice could see what was wrong; her eye sockets had been sewn shut and it seemed as if her eyes had been gouged out. She had to be in a lot of pain.

"He won't stop." Chan said in a monotone voice; a voice that didn't match the look on her face.

"We're leaving, now." Alice replied. "Can you…er…tell where you're going?"

"I can't see, Alice! Or did he take your eyes, too?"

"I'll help you out. Don't worry."

The two girls had barely gone twelve steps when they heard the bookshelf next to them swing open. Turning her head towards the noise, Chan couldn't even sense who was there. The look of horror on Alice's face told the story of what they'd seen. The man who owned the castle they'd stayed in.

"There you two are."

Both girls were now certain who it was; Klaus. The two could barely scream before they felt a sharp, fast-moving blade hit their bodies and the world went numb.


End file.
